What's Been Leading Up To This
by your-fave-bhl
Summary: A story of how fashion can change your life...among other things.
1. First Time

She could still recall the first time they had met. It had been her first day as a dropout in the middle of her sophomore year from Bridgestone High, and her first as a leading artist at the first M&Ccorp. in New York, America, and she was already being trusted with one of the company's most loyal clients.

"Emily Lockheart is our most qualified designer to suit your, erm, fashion needs," her new boss, John Hocke, stated to the fiery red headed man looking down on a cowering young Emily. "Right this way sir, she'll join you in a moment." John said directing the man to Emily's new office. John then pulled her aside, "Remember, Mr. Syndrome is one of our more, prestigious clients, and that we have a strict confidentiality policy." She could see the red head give a knowing smile as she nodded and trailed behind him into her office while Hocke closed the door.

Syndrome, as he had been referred to, didn't seem to be much older than herself, Emily noticed as she pulled her sketchbook out of one of the drawers in her new desk, then sat in her chair.

"So, um, what kind of outfit are you looking for?" Emily stammered shyly.

"A super suit. Something bold, yet classy. Oh, and definitely with an S on it. And try to play up my eyes a bit too." He said, elaborating with his hand when he noticed her gaping in shock at his request.

"Uh, oh-kay." She stuttered as she started sketching. Syndrome then crossed his arms and walked over to the large window gazing at the city below. Emily slightly taken aback by his regal stance, she could practically see him in the suit she was rapidly sketching.

When she had finished inking and coloring the design a few moments later she beckoned to him to come and tell her what he thought of it. It was a simple design, yes, with a giant white S and matching white gloves and boots across a black body suit and domino mask, with a black, and blue inside, cape that would "play up his eyes" just as he had requested.

"Its great! So, um, how long do I have to wait for it?" Syndrome nearly stammered in amazement at her drawing.

"Well I'm pretty sure we'll have to fly in the fabric from a fellow manufacturer, but you should only have to wait a couple of hours. Perhaps you could drop by at four? Just to be sure?" Emily said gesturing to the clock which had just struck one o' clock.

"Yeah, sure, that'd be fine. Who do I pick it up from though?" Syndrome asked.

"Um, since my shift's over by then, Mr. Hocke should have it at the front desk." Emily said glancing at the clock again.

"Oh, well that's a shame, I was really looking forward to seeing you again." Syndrome said as he moved her pink side bangs behind her ear with the rest of her black hair. He then slid his hand down her cheek and underneath her chin, lifting her head slightly so he could look at her beautiful sky blue eyes better. Just as Emily began to glance nervously back and forth between his blue eyes John Hocke burst through the door assuring Syndrome that his suit would be finished in a few hours and to come back to the front desk at four to pick it up.

After Syndrome had been escorted out to his car Emily waited out the remainder of her shift only to be kept late by and annoying client who refused to make up her mind about a certain color scheme, which caused Emily to run into Syndrome on her way home.

As she approached her door he sped by and waved at her from his black Ferrari. She just looked back nervously until he had driven out of sight. Emily then found herself trembling as she cautiously unlocked the door to her house, half expecting him to be waiting for her inside. It wasn't as if she wasn't used to this kind of attention, she was actually a very pretty girl; average height at the time (she had grown a few inches since then), slightly curvy, people just didn't usually look past the pink side bangs and black painted lips.


	2. Meeting His Right Hand Girl

Emily then recalled that it hadn't been but a few more years after their first meeting that Syndrome had come back, ironically, on her last day before the company closed down. He strode in with a fashion designer's dream model; tall, curvy, tan, slivery blond hair, and gorgeous jade green eyes. He had told the new company manager, who had just recently replaced Hocke, that he would only see Emily Lockheart. Emily, of course, still had her same office, and quickly hurried them in and away from her boss.

"Sorry about that, Hank's only been here a week, and he still doesn't know how things run around here. Emily said gesturing to them to sit down.

"Hey its cool. So, um, you remember that suit you designed for me awhile back?" as Syndrome said this Emily nodded and smiled, "Well the things perfect! I don't think anyone else could have designed a cooler one, or made it more durable. But you see, the reason I came back to you is, that I'd like you to make Mirage a few things. You know, like, business suits, dresses, t-shirts and jeans-"

"So basically you want me to design a whole wardrobe for her?" Emily cut in before Syndrome had the chance to list ever article of clothing he wanted.

"Basically, but they have to be able to withstand anything you can throw at them." Mirage said with a grin.

"No problem. Clothes like those are my specialty." Emily stated with a quick glance at the clock. She remembered noticing that Syndrome had come with Mirage at about the same time he had come before, so naturally they had plenty of time. She then asked Mirage what she wanted and told her she could stand around the room if she wanted. At that notion Syndrome got up and went over to the window and crossed his arms, he gazed out onto the city with a slightly colder expression that last time though. Meanwhile mirage had moved herself to the center of Emily's office and began striking numerous mannequin poses.

During Mirage's ramblings and poses, which Emily sat through for what seemed like hours, Emily noticed Syndrome standing in all his grand sublimation at the window and began to make a small scribble of him in the bottom left hand corner of her sketchbook. Emily finally finished and stopped waiting for Mirage to shut up and stand still because she was obviously to wired to do so any time soon. Because what Mirage was doing was actually very distracting, and not helpful by any means. So Emily began to sketch out what Syndrome had asked of her, taking pride in her dress designs especially.

"So, um, would you like me to make a super suit to go along with these?" she asked as she showed her sketches to Syndrome and Mirage when she had finished.

"Thank you, but no." Mirage declined politely.

"She prefers to just wear _plain clothes_." Syndrome said sounding highly annoyed at that fact.

"Okay, I just thought I would ask. Just in case you know? Anyways, everything should be ready by tomorrow, and you should be able to pick it all up at the front desk. Emily told them as she escorted them out and handed her sketches to her assistant. She also could recall that Syndrome had kept glancing back over his shoulder at her on the way out too. 'Probably trying to see past the same pink side bangs I've had since his last visit' She thought to herself quietly.

Emily could also remember getting a call from Edna Mode "asking" her to intern under her for a while since the M&Ccorp. where she currently worked was closing. After she confirmed her move to Edna's mansion she had gotten the call that the company was officially closing. Emily found that very ironic, along with the next call she received from another famous Parisian fashion designer requesting her internship with him after Edna's as well. She agreed eagerly. 'At least the company gave me some awesome references' Emily thought, absent-mindedly packing the whole time she had been on the phone.


	3. Something's Different

For quite some time after that, mainly during the ban on Supers, Emily hadn't heard much more about Syndrome. A few snippets about his weapon industry in the news occasionally, but nothing much that had interested her. It was only after her internship with Edna and the Parisian designer had both ended that she really heard anything about him that drastically affected her. 

It was the main story for the evening news. The infamous Syndrome had been killing off innocent supers in an attempt to make a robot that only he, himself could defeat. Instead the Incredible's had come to the rescue once again. However when he tried to escape, he was in turn repaid by his cape getting caught in his jet's turbine, causing the explosion that initially killed him. Even though there was no body to be found at the site, they were having a funeral, for anybody who cared to show up, in a few days nearby Emily's home.

She already knew she would be going as she flipped the channel to another news story, this one being about his assistant Mirage. Apparently Mr. Incredible was dropping the charges against her because she had played a vital role in helping defeat Syndrome. 'So she betrayed him, wow, and I was feeling guilty about the cape' Emily thought as she went into the kitchen to fix something to eat for dinner.

Perhaps she would give everyone at her company the day off for his funeral, of course, she would come up with some other excuse for it, but she probably would none-the-less. When she gave up on finding something to actually cook, only moments later, she grabbed a bowl and poured some lucky charms and milk in it. Leaning against the counter while she ate she wondered just why Mirage had betrayed Syndrome. 'If it had been for Mr. Incredible,' Emily thought while absent-mindedly listening to the T.V. in the adjacent room, 'I'd hate to be the one to break it to her that that ship sailed a few years ago, even then he hadn't been much, now he was just pathetic.' After she finished her cereal she went back into her living room to finish the news. After the report on Syndrome and Mirage there wasn't anything else really. Mainly just repeats of old news to fill dead air.

It wasn't until later that night that Emily felt things to be a tad bit "off." She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but it was there, and it was going to nag her to death until she figured it out. However, after checking her account, her account, and her company website she retired to her bedroom. Drifting on and off for a couple of hours while sketching out ideas for an upcoming fashion show she realized that she heard the T.V. still going in her living room. 'Crap! I could have sworn I turned it off this time.' She thought rather annoyed as she strolled into her living room right up to the T.V. and clicked it off. She hadn't thought much of it at that time, heck, she left the T.V. on all the time! It wasn't like she didn't have the money to pay her outrageously high bills, she was just often times too lazy to turn it off. Of course she dismissed anything odd because of that, but the next day she became aware of just how "off" things really were right under her nose.


	4. Not All They Appear To Be

She had gotten up early for work the next day, and as usual put on a slightly modified business suit. Emily still felt off though, when she got into her car and noticed that she had left the keys in the ignition. 'Great, I'm subconsciously taunting someone to break into my home' she thought sarcastically yet extremely annoyed at her recent forgetfulness. It wasn't a long drive to her company, and when she strolled in she immediately made the announcement that the company would be closed this Friday, though she purposely neglected the reasons as to why. Of course, nobody really thought much of it, they were just happy to get a day off. Upon arriving at her office she checked in with her assistant who notified her of an old client waiting for her in her office. Emily couldn't think of anybody she had scheduled in for today. But with her recent memory relapses it could have been the president for all she knew. When she opened her office door and marched in she almost didn't recognize the man sitting in her chair.

"Hey Emily, you miss me?" Syndrome said with a twisted smile. Emily was almost certain he was going to murder her for the cape. After all, most of Syndrome clients, and fellow workers had a tendency to turn up "missing" or dead after an argument or disagreement. Emily, however, only nodded nervously at him.

"I thought you were dead. At least that's the story on the news."

"Luckily that damn turbine caught my cape so fast it just tore it off my suit. Then after the explosion my only problem was trying to fly away with one rocket boot. Oh yeah, and of course having all my assets frozen!" apparently he had just come to vent, or at least that's what Emily convinced herself of.

"All the one's in Syndrome's name anyway. Besides, what about Swiss bank accounts, and accounts under your given name?" She said trying to comfort him.

"Yeah I do suppose I still have some of my money, and a few inventions." He agreed.

"And your life." Emily reminded him, sounding almost happy about it too.

"Yeah no kidding. But listen babe, I need your help." Syndrome asked. Emily almost didn't know what to say. She just couldn't very well go off and help a villain, could she?

"Anything you need." She stated with a grin, and she could tell by his look that he was surprised she was going along with this too.

"I've done some digging, and I know about your numerous houses and such. But if I recall, you bought an island close to mine, didn't you?" he asked rather deviously. She smiled back, nodding eagerly. "Well do you think you could find out what the government has left of my old lair?"

"They left everything the way it was, more or less. They've just warned ships and other aircraft that its illegal to pass by, and that they'll open fire on any foreign countries that come near it. Mostly their trying to figure out how all your inventions work, well, the ones that you hadn't marketed anyway." She replied while moving papers off her desk so she could sit comfortably on top of it.

"Wait, how do you know that?" He asked incredulously.

"Even despite our fame Syndrome, according to the government, neither of us exist."

"But why you? You've got nothing to hide," at his next statement he tousled her sleeve, "and your not in league with any villains, yet" he added.

"You don't know as much about me as you think you do Syndrome." Emily said with a tinge of bitterness welled up in her throat.

"Well, I'd like to get to know you better, that is, if your going to help me of course."

"Of course, but I'll need a reasonable excuse, instead of just, going missing like a lot of your other victims."

"I think I can handle that." 'Among other things' Emily thought to herself when he said that. They then arranged to meet at the local club where they would later run away. Syndrome said he had a friend who would frame her murder so that nobody would expect their revenge. But why would Emily want revenge? Jealousy, anger, years of bottled up emotions due to extended trauma? Or perhaps it was just the skeletons in her closet, but whatever it was that compelled her to join him, it would have to come out sooner or later. Perhaps even sooner than she thought.


	5. Waiting For Doubt

Shortly after they made their plans, Syndrome left Emily to finish her day at work. She thought it would never end, especially the abnormal amount of client traffic, which left her no time to go home before heading to the club. So she ended up having to choose an outfit out of her office closet. In the end she settled on a short blue and black striped tube top over an under-armer and jeans, with a stud belt and converse. Before she left for the day she glanced at herself in the full length mirror she kept for clients. 'Psh, who am I trying to fool?' she thought to herself apprehensively. On her way out she grabbed the messenger bag she took everywhere. 'Well he can just replace everything else, but I probably shouldn't take my cell.' she thought suspiciously while throwing her cell phone out the window.

The drive to the club seemed to pass by quickly, mainly because her mind was flooding with doubt. She knew she shouldn't be doing this, but something kept the fire in her burning. She knew she shouldn't, but she wanted them all to pay for what they put her through. Emily didn't know at the time that she didn't deserve the treatment she received, but as the years progressed it became increasingly obvious. She knew now, and nothing was going to stop her, not even the constant voice inside her head screaming, "THIS WILL NEVER WORK!!!"

Emily was about twenty minutes early, despite her clients keeping her late, so she took the time she had to go visit with the bartender, who happened to be her old roommate and owner of the club. Emily hadn't come here in awhile since she left for her internships and she hoped she would be remembered.

"Well, well, look who's come back to visit!" 'Of course she remembers me.'

"Hey Alicia, what's new?" Emily said leaning on the counter without sitting down.

"Nothing really, but we did get a new deejay, several new regulars," at this Alicia nodded towards the dancers on the floor while another bartender came up behind her, "and another sexy bartender!" at this she wrapped her arm around the girl.

"Nice to see you've moved on Licia." Emily said giving her a teasing look which Alicia took as her cue to start the introduction.

"Emily, this is Samantha, the love of my life! Sam, this is Emily, my old roommate."

"Pleasure to meet you." Samantha said shaking her hand before getting back to work. Emily nodded then gave a fleeting glimpse back to the line to get in, 'Where is he?'

"Hey, you expecting somebody?" Alicia questioned while cleaning a glass.

"Listen Licia, if anybody asks about me, after tonight-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know, I know. You were never here. Since I haven't seen you in years!" Alicia stated, cutting her off and sounding slightly annoyed.

"You know I appreciate it." Emily said as she glanced back at the line seeing him waiting to get in. When Syndrome finally noticed her, she smiled back at him then began to march through the gathering crowd. When she got to the bouncer, who was a rather large, Indian man she leaned up and whispered in his ear then motioned towards Syn. Emily then exchanged a few words with him while he wrapped his arms around her waist, which she could tell Syndrome was slightly annoyed about. After they shared a quick kiss he motioned to Syndrome to come to the head of the line. Emily then grabbed a key from the bouncer's pocket and walked with Syn to the club's second floor.

All the rooms on the second floor were for regulars who needed to crash after getting wasted, or for paying customers who wished to stay the night. Emily escorted Syndrome to the last room on the left before the stairs to the deejay's room. It was the largest suite with a king sized canopy bed and light blue comforter set which matched with a different shade of blue for everything else in the room.

"So what do you think? We can stay here until the flight." Emily said as she jumped on the bed after she dropped her bag by the door.

"Yeah, that'd be fine." He sounded rather distracted.

"What's wrong?" Emily asked with concern and worry thick in her question.

"What the hell was that with the bouncer?" he raised his voice.

"What do you even care? It got you through the line didn't it?" She raised hers to match his as she sat up. Syndrome didn't reply, he merely sat down in the nearby blue chair and turned on the T.V.

"Trust me, Armanii is just an old friend." She said trying to convince him that nothing was going on.

"An old friend that wanted to get in your pants." he said flatly, eyes still on the T.V. 'Oh trust me, you have no idea' she thought as she rolled her eyes.

"I thought you were just using me to get back to your lair, or get you another one or whatever." He didn't answer again, instead he just shook his head. Emily jumped up and walked over to where he was sitting while blocking his view of the T.V., "Or is this about something more?" What he did next caught her severely off-guard.


End file.
